


Misery Loves Company

by AyuOhseki



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Body Horror, Dissociation, Gen, Loss of Control, Manipulation, Player as Antagonist, Possession, Psychological Horror, Spoilers - No Mercy Route, though you need to read between the lines to see it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5658037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyuOhseki/pseuds/AyuOhseki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Greetings. You have made yourself completely clear. Understood. I, your humble servant, will follow you to the utmost..." A one-shot. After scores of resets, your last great pleasure is to take up the greatest challenge, the final Boss, and conquer him over and over. If you want new content, you have to make your own. Oh? That's just what you intend to do? Understood. If you're bored, and you have to drag the others into it to get what you want, whose fault is that, really?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misery Loves Company

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by author musings on the in-character rationale for killing Sans several times in a row. Formerly titled "Fun and Games." I feel the current title is more on-point, considering among other things that I originally wrote this while really unhappy with myself. Despite how it ends, this is and will remain a one-shot. The summary has been updated to make it clearer what's going on here while still keeping it just vague enough.

“Here goes nothing.”

Chara smiles. It’s their usual expression, and it’s lasted them all fight this time.

“That’s right,” Sans continues, breathing heavily, as not a single thing happens. “It’s literally nothing.”

They giggle.

“I know I can’t beat you. One of these turns, you’re gonna kill me. So, uh... I decided it’s not gonna _be_ your turn,” Sans says. It’s hard to tell if the sweat on the skull is just from exertion or if he’s unnerved. Chara likes to think it’s both. “Ever,” he adds when they can’t stop giggling. “So you and me are going to stay here until the end of time.”

“Sounds fun,” they say between giggles.

“Uh. Seriously, kid? You’re not, you know... bored?”

Their smile widens, brightening their expression. “Bored? With you? _Never_.”

After a long moment, Sans replies, “Wow. You really are some kind of freak.”

“I know you can tell when a timeline has been reloaded,” they say. “At first, you were counting how many times you beat me.” Their eyes gleam with a ruddy light. “Have you been keeping count of how many times I’ve beaten _you_?”

Sans doesn’t reply. His perpetual smile looks far more like a grimace.

“That’s right,” they taunt. “I could have gotten to the room past you anytime I wanted to. But I keep loading my save and coming back to fight you. Do you want to know why?”

“Not really,” says Sans.

“Good thing I don’t care what you want,” they say, not missing a beat. “It’s because fighting you is so. Much. _Fun_.”

“Don’t you, uh...” He stifles a yawn. “Have anything better to do, kid?”

“Nope!” they chirp.

“Oh boy,” Sans mumbles sourly, forcing his eyes back open after a blink takes too long.

“You know by now your ‘special attack’ is useless,” they continue. “In another minute, you’ll fall asleep. You won’t be able to help it. You’re too tired. And then I’ll kill you.” They giggle, twirling their dagger between their fingers with an inhuman dexterity. “For the fifth time in a row.”

“Ugh.”

“You couldn’t even hit me once this time,” they add conversationally. “How does it feel, knowing what a total failure you are at every job you’ve ever had?”

“Still feels better than having to listen to you yapping,” Sans mutters. “Seriously, kid. _Seriously_. Don’t you _ever_ get bored of this?”

“But the music is so good. How could I get bored?”

It’s a non sequitur, but Sans didn’t expect much better. “So then what?” he says, settling down to sit cross-legged. If what the creep machine says is true and he’s going to fall asleep in a minute, he may as well take a load off his feet. “How many times are you gonna kill me before you’re satisfied?”

They sit down with him and lean their smiling face on one hand. “Until you say ‘yes.’”

“Huh?” Sans peers at them with one eye. “To what, exactly?”

“Just a fun little game I had in mind.”

“And did any of the other Sanses say ‘yes’?”

“Nope!”

“So what makes you think I will?”

“The odds _are_ bad,” they admit, “but I just want to remind you that I can end this world anytime I want to. If you say ‘yes,’ you might still be able to keep that from happening.”

Sans heaves a sigh. His vision is swimming in and out of focus. He doesn’t have real memories of previous timelines and can only keep track of when the timeline stops and restarts, but he has no doubt whatsoever that this piece of garbage is telling the truth. Guys like him don’t go into a fight giving it their all and fail to land a single hit unless the enemy knows their every move in and out.

“Boy, this sure feels pointless,” he laments.

“If it’s pointless, then why not change it up?”

And the scary thing is, Sans feels himself thinking they might be on to something. He loathes this kid with everything he’s got, but he can’t--and won’t--beat him. So maybe, just maybe, if he plays along, he can try to bargain for some time.

“All right, I’ll bite. What’s this ‘game’ you’ve got in mind, bucko?” he asks.

“You’ve got special powers, Sans. Powers nobody else in this world does. You might not be able to SAVE and RESET like I can, but you’re still someone special.” Chara leans forward; the locket on their chest see-saws in the empty air. “What would you say if I told you I figured out a way to let you keep your memories, even after a reset?”

_That_ wakes Sans up. “What the hell,” he utters, taken aback. “What good would that do you?”

“It does me lots of good. It makes things new. New and interesting.”

“If you were interested in ‘interesting,’ you wouldn’t have murdered your way through the underground.”

“True,” they admit. “This game is a lot more fun when you play along with it.”

Something dark and angry lurches in Sans’s chest. “If you know that,” he says slowly, “if you really, honestly think that, what the _hell_ are you doing here?”

They smile sweetly. “It’s your own fault, you know,” they say. “This is the only timeline where I get to fight you. In every other one, if I spare even a _single_ monster, you won’t get off your bony butt and fight me. I did all this just to come play with _you_.”

“Wow. If I had skin, trust me, it’d be crawling.”

Their eyes flick to one side, towards the door past past which they know Asgore awaits. This time around has gone on longer than any previous time. They see, for a flash, Flowey poking his head out from behind the door before vanishing behind it. They re-focus on Sans.

“So this time, I want to bring you with me,” they continue. “Admit it, Sans. You’ve got all that power, but you hardly ever use it. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to just go wild without repercussions? Do whatever you want? Kill whoever you hate?”

“Kid, there’s no one on the surface or the underground that I hate more than you,” he replies, left eye glowing bright blue. “The answer’s no.”

“That’s too bad.” They get a little more horizontal. “Maybe the next Sans will be a better sport.” They’re sprawled on the floor now.

And then, very softly, very gently, they begin to hum a lullaby.

Sans tries his hardest to stay awake. He really does try. But in the end, there are some things you just can’t fight.

\---

“If you say ‘yes,’ I’ll reset and bring you with me,” they tell the next Sans. “You want to see your brother again, don’t you? I’ll even promise to spare him.”

This time, they think they’ve got him. He hesitates for longer than he has in any other load. But:

“No dice,” he ultimately replies. “Even if you _did_ keep your word, I’d never be able to look Papyrus in the face again if I took you up on your offer.” His left eye blazes blue. “The answer’s no.”

They sigh. “That’s too bad. Maybe the next Sans will be a better sport.”

\---

“If you say yes, I’ll reset and bring you with me. I’ll even promise to spare your brother.”

They wait for the Sans after that to hesitate. Then they smile sweetly.

“No dice?” they suggest. “You wouldn’t be able to look your brother in the face again if you did, maybe?”

“If you already know the answer, why’d you ask?” Sans asks warily.

They show off their teeth. “Because if you say ‘no’ again, I’ll reset and bring you with me anyway,” they inform him. “And then I’ll spare everyone _but_ your brother.” Their eyes burn red. “And it’ll be all your fault, and you’ll know it.”

Sans’s pupils blink out, leaving behind empty black sockets. He’s silent for a very long time. They wait; they have been taught, after all these resets, how to be patient. Finally, Sans rolls onto his feet.

“So that’s how it is, huh,” he says, eyes still blank. “I definitely can’t let that happen.”

They beam and hop up to their feet. “ _Finally_ , you get it.”

“Yeah. Gotta say, you know how to motivate a skeleton, pal.” He waits for them to start to approach, and muses, “Thanks to that...” His left eye phosphoresces electric blue and burns a hole in their chest. “ _I’ve got my second wind_.”

This has never happened before, and it takes them completely off-guard. The fight after that is bloody and very, very brief.

\---

“Look, even I’m starting to get sick of this. And you know, if that happens, what _else_ will happen,” they tell the Sans after that. “Come on. It’ll be fun. No one could stand in our way.”

“Kid, if this is your way of saying you want a friend, you need to seriously re-evaluate your priorities,” Sans replies.

They frown, eyes narrowed.

\---

When they load again, Flowey is there behind them. This, too, is the first time this has happened. They didn’t think they’d see him again after he started blubbering about quitting--at least, not until the last room.

“Seriously, Chara, what’s the hold-up?” Flowey has the nerve to complain. “I thought you wanted to wreck this stupid, miserable world! Wasn’t that the whole _point_? What’s all this messing around for?”

“It was,” they reply, indifferent. “But I wanted to try something different first.”

“I get what you’re saying, but he’s never going to say ‘yes,’” Flowey insists. “I never managed to get past him, but you! _You_! You’re closing in on double-digits!”

“I lost the fight before last, you know.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t _have_ to. You would’ve had it in the bag. What do you need Smiley Trashbag for, anyway? You’re a million times stronger than him!”

They chuckle a little. “Are you upset because of the ‘friend’ thing?”

Flowey’s leaves rustle and flutter. “N-no, of course not!”

“Oh. So you _were_ listening in. I thought so.” They slide their eyes his way just to see him flinch. Part of them watches with a deadened heart, but the rest delights in it. Which parts were Chara again? They don’t remember anymore. Oh well. “If you’re such a great friend... why haven’t you ever helped me beat him?”

“Wh-what? _Me_? You want _me_ to...” Flowey trails off, his expression rife with panic. Then he fakes a smile. “H-hey! Now that I think about it, I wanted to ask you! How’d you figure out how to bring someone with you when you reset?” His face contorts into a malicious, toothy grin. “Think about how much fun _that’d_ be! Make everyone remember everything! They’ll scream and cry at the sight of you, Chara! We can do it over and over again! W-wouldn’t _that_ be great?”

“I thought you wanted to wreck this stupid, miserable world,” they reply, tone light and airy. “Wasn’t that the whole point?”

Flowey beams at them with all his strength. They muse that they’ve never seen a flower sweat before. “Haha! Funny! That’s really funny, Chara! You always were a card! B-but hey, it’s the two of us together again! We can do all kinds of neat things if we want to! And you want to, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be doing this fight over so many times!”

“That’s true,” they admit, looking back towards the hallway before them. Golden light spills into it through the stained glass windows, contrasting sharply with the shadows from the columns. It is, for the moment, completely empty. They slowly start to smile, and they turn again towards the little yellow flower. “Flowey,” they say, “I’m sorry.”

“W-what? Really? For what?”

They nod. “I only just realized. You were just upset because I was leaving you out of all the fun, weren’t you?” Smile unwavering, their eyes narrow. “That’s why you started whining about changing your mind and wanting to stop all this before.”

“Uh... y-yeah,” Flowey agrees, eyes darting from side to side. “Y-yeah, that’s it...”

They crouch down before him. “I should’ve gotten you in on this from the start,” they say in the low tones of a confidante. “That was so stupid of me. You must think I’m an idiot, huh?”

“No way! Never!” Flowey’s quick to reassure them, fear and relief in his smile as he waves his leaves. “You’re the only person in this rotten world who isn’t!” He averts his eyes and slumps. “ _I’m_ the idiot here. I was the one who doubted you...”

“And you see where that got you? Where it got _us_?” they murmur, tone knives wrapped in velvet. “But I just got a great idea. An even _better_ idea than last time. And I think you’re the only one who can help me make it happen. What do you say... Asriel?”

The flower snaps upright at the sound of his old name. “That sounds great!” he effuses in a rush of air that betrays his desperation to please. “It’ll be just like old times! What d’you need me to do? Just say the word!”

“Oh, it won’t be _just_ like old times,” the fallen human replies, smiling with all the warmth of a branding iron. “But here’s the plan...”

\---

“Here goes nothing.”

Chara smiles. There’s an extra-merry glint in their eyes.

“That’s right,” Sans continues, breathing heavily, as not a single thing happens. “It’s literally nothing.”

They giggle.

“I know I can’t beat you. One of these turns, you’re gonna kill me. So, uh... I decided it’s not gonna _be_ your turn,” Sans says. “Ever,” he adds when they can’t stop giggling. “So you and me are going to stay here until the end of time.”

“Sounds fun,” they say between giggles. “Except for the part where that’s not what happens.”

“Uhhh, what’re you talking about, kid?”

The human waves a hand. Their SOUL dings against the confines of Sans’s trap; Sans’s eye flashes blue for a split-second. “Oh, nothing,” they say. “Just making conversation. The end of time is an awfully long ways away. Don’t you think?”

“Buddy, it’ll be extra-long with a creeper like you for company.”

They shrug. “I’ve been called worse.” They wave their hand again. Again, their SOUL dings, and again Sans’s eye flashes. “Hey, d’you want to hear about a cool game I thought of? Since we’re going to be here a long time, I mean.”

“I sure don’t.”

“Too bad. It’s a game called, ‘Do As I Say And I Won’t Make Your Life Hell.’”

Sans snorts, eye sockets going black. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious! It’s a blast. I’m playing it right now, in fact.”

“With who, exactly?”

They smile and ding their SOUL. “Well, you know what they say. It’s all fun and games until someone loses something something.”

A flash of bright blue. “An eye?”

“An eye, a SOUL, a mind, an individual will.” They shrug. “Whatever.”

“My thoughts exactly. Even I can’t laugh at a joke that bad.”

_Ding_. “What makes you think I was joking?”

“The part where--” _Ding_. “--you’ve already made--” _Ding_. “--my life hell, kid.” _Ding_. “Did you forget--” _Ding_. “--how you killed my brother...?”

_Ding_. “Nope,” they say cheerfully. “I remember perfectly how he spread out his arms for a hug.” _Ding_. “I remember how I cut off his head in one strike.” _Ding_. “I remember how he went on about still believing in me--” _Ding ding ding_. “--just before he crumbled to dust.” _Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding_... “It,” they declare as they ram their SOUL into the confines of the box over and over again to the strobelight of Sans’s eye, “was _hilarious_.”

Sans doesn’t say anything, but his eye burns a little brighter.

They make eye contact and don’t break it. “Your brother’s a real loser, you know?” they simper. “His entire existence is the biggest joke of all. Oops--I mean _was_.”

Sans nearly puts a foot forward, but something makes him stop. He grinds his teeth together, then straightens and smiles his very widest grin. “Heh,” he utters, winking. “Did you think you could provoke me, kid? Nah. You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

“Ooh. And here I was wondering if I was pushing too hard. Actually, I’m kind of impressed,” they say, and mean it. _Ding_. “But...” _Ding_. “I wasn’t trying to _provoke_ you.” _Ding ding ding_.

“Yeah?” Sans says, eye flashing over and over. “Then what’s the deal?”

They giggle, then break into outright laughter. They don’t stop dinging, even while doubled over.

“You seriously are a freak,” Sans says, tone and eyes flat.

“Sorry, sorry,” they breathe, wiping away nonexistent tears. “It’s just... this is working out way better than I thought it would.”

That puts Sans on his guard. As his bones tense, he notices an extra tension throughout his body that he’d been too distracted to pay attention to before. He looks down...

...and sees a golden flower, already up to his collarbone, spreading roots up his body. It lifts his face, then bares a fiendish grin and cackles, tongue out.

“Surprise~!” the flower jeers. “Bet you didn’t see _this_ coming, did you, trashbag?”

“What the--” Sans utters, but when he attempts to lift his arm in reaction, his bones jerk, rattle, and fail to move. The flower cackles again and climbs up his neck, tendrils wrapping around ribs as it goes.

Even so, Sans tries again. As worn out as that fight left him, shock and fear have a hell of a jolt on a set of bones, and he manages to jerk his left arm out of his jacket pocket. His eye is a molten blue as it fixes on the golden flower...

A pair of small, tan hands close over his own and gently pull it down. Sans’s fingers tremble even before he looks over at the child’s wickedly adoring smile.

It’s a terrible thing to know something unspeakable is happening to you and be completely unable to stop it. As Flowey burrows up into Sans’s skull from under his jaw, Sans begins to scream in agony. It doesn’t stop until well after the flower has burst through his left eyesocket. Only then does he manage to get enough control of his body to crash to his knees, sweat pouring off his skull.

“Oooh, feels tingly,” Flowey giggles. He turns a black-eyed grin to Sans’s other eye. “Boy, I can’t believe I never thought of this before! I can already imagine all the fun I’m gonna have with your body!”

“Get him to stand up,” they command.

“Sure thing, Char-- _oof_ ,” Flowey utters as Sans digs into the stone floor. He shoots him a glare. “Hey, quit struggling there, bonehead. Don’t you get you’ve already lost?”

“No, it’s fine,” they say, still smiling down at the two. “Let him struggle. It’s funnier that way. Isn’t it, comedian?”

Their smile blooms into a grin at Sans’s glare of hate, and they take a single step back. Tendrils pulse along taut bones, pulling, pushing. It’s an agonizing dance, and though Flowey has grown himself all through Sans’s body, getting even a single knee up takes over a minute.

After several more have passed, Chara finally says, “Need some help?”

“N-no, I got this--I _got_ this!!” He cackles in triumphant glee as Sans’s spine quivers and finally straightens. “Eat _that_!”

“Hey, uh,” Sans grunts, sweat still dripping, right eye darting between his antagonizers, “I hope you know, uh... this whole thing? Is totally pointless. I’m the last boss here. So, uh. There’s no one to ‘use’ me on.”

“Well, there’s still King Asgore and the six SOULs, but you’re right in spirit... pun not intended,” they reply, shrugging. “This world is empty.”

“What a waste of a perfectly good bad joke,” Sans mutters under his breath.

Flowey cackles. “Oh, you have no _idea_ what’s in store for you, do you? Wait ‘til we tell you!!” Prompt laid, he peeks over at Chara.

But they only keep smiling. “Flowey, do you have him under total control now?”

Sans’s left arm jerks out, then up, then down. His body takes a big step backwards, and then both hands punch himself in the sides of his head. Sans grimaces through it all.

“Perfect!” Flowey chirps.

“Oh, good,” they declare, clapping their hands. “So you’ve got the feel for it?”

“Yup!”

“Then let’s load the SAVE and see if we can’t do it faster this time.”

The smile flickers from Flowey’s face. “Uh. What?”

“Fas-ter,” they repeat pointedly. “You were _so_ slow. You need to be _faster_.”

“Weren’t... weren’t you going to take him with you when you reset?” Flowey says, uncertain.

“Oh. That was a lie. I can’t do something like that.” They shrug. “I mean, I could try. I sure was planning to. But really, I just thought dangling that over his head might get him to agree to do what I want. This is a _much_ better idea, though.” They laugh. “And they said I had a perverse sentimentality. Or did I say that about them? Haha! Either way, don’t you think trying out everything you can do is better than railroading to the same ending over and over again?”

“Uh... What? This is... your first time doing this, isn’t it?”

“Hm? Oh, right. Never mind, never mind. I’m just talking to myself, anyway.” They consider the two monsters. “Tell you what. If you can just get faster, I’ll fill you in on what I actually have in mind. Okay, Flowey?”

“Er... R-right!”

“Good,” they say. They meet Sans’s remaining eye, and their smile widens. “See you again soon, Sans~.”

“Hey. I’m not gonna pretend I know why you’re doing this,” Sans rumbles, watching Flowey. “But, uh. Don’t you think it’s weird you’re not on the same wavelength?”

Flowey scowls at him, then looks over at the child. “Chara, if we’re just dumping this one anyway, can I kill him?”

“Do it.”

A brittle _snap_ echoes through the hallway as Flowey breaks Sans’s spine in four places. The light in Sans’s right socket reduces to a pinprick. He sags, but Flowey holds him upright.

“Welp. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he croaks.

Flowey drop and coils onto the floor as Sans’s body reduces to a pile of dust.

“Boy, that felt good! He sure wouldn’t shut up, huh, Chara?” he says, stretching.

“He was just mad,” they reply, smiling faintly down at him, “because we’re such good friends. Now, let’s practice some more before we reset, okay? And remember: _faster_.”

Flowey beams up at them unironically. “You got it, Chara!”

\---

It’s a little chilly for Snowdin, or maybe Sans has just been loafing at his sentry station for too long. He’s out of ketchup, relish, _and_ mustard; he knows he should’ve picked up extra on the way here this morning, but he just didn’t feel like it.

Besides which, he has other things on his mind right now.

The huge door deeper in the woods has never opened before that he’s seen, but he can hear a loud, _loud_ creak echo through the forest. He opens up one eye from his nap station and gets up. One handy shortcut later, and he’s behind the kid who just left it. A human, it turns out. The sight of them is familiar somehow, but he chalks it up to the promise he made not too long ago and follows behind them. A thick branch cracks under his slipper, and he deliberately rustles the brush, but the kid doesn’t even look back.

_Not very observant, huh?_ he thinks. _Or maybe the kid knows there’s nothing to be afraid of._

He approaches, catching up as the kid reaches Papyrus’s barrier. “Human,” he intones, holding his hand out.

But before he can tell them to turn around and shake his hand, the kid does exactly that, sending the sound of a whoopie cushion farting through the woods.

“Heh. The old whoopie cushion in the hand trick. It’s ALWAYS funny,” Sans says, but falters when he sees the kid’s expression. They’re smiling, but...

“Hey,” he says. “That look on your face... Have you--”

“Hi, Sans,” the human interrupts him. “It’s me, the anomaly.”

A thrill of something flutters through Sans’s chest. He’s confident in his own abilities, but damned if it didn’t feel like fear. And no wonder: every instinct he’s got is screaming at him that this kid is dangerous. He tries to pull his hand back, but the kid squeezes hold. Their eyes are piercing, almost hypnotic. It feels like they’re staring straight through him. Sans shakes his head a little to collect himself.

“Gotta say, I never thought you’d just come out and say it,” he says with a wink and a light-hearted grin. He knows perfectly well it doesn’t reach his eyes. “So you’re the one who’s been messing around with the timeline, huh?”

They nod. “What’re you going to do about it?”

“Way to put me on the spot, kid,” Sans replies, scratching his cheekbone. Again, he tries to pull his hand away; again, the kid holds on. It makes him uncomfortable, though he tries not to show it. Just touching them makes him feel like there’s something crawling up his bones. “Nothing, as long as you’re a decent kid. But I’ve got the feeling you didn’t introduce yourself like that for laughs.” He winks again. “Am I warm? Or is that just my hot-water bottle?”

“You’re warm,” they reply, “and I’d definitely say it’s because of hot water.”

Sans decides he’s had enough. He jerks his hand back, and this time it comes away--but his arm is stiff, it doesn’t bend right, it only goes partway. When he staggers back a step, his legs don’t bend all the way either, and it’s only now to the sound of a guttural laugh and a pounding behind his left eye that he realizes his crawling feeling wasn’t thanks to the kid.

“By the way: something interesting you maybe might not have known,” they continues at a pleasant, conversational level as Sans screams. “I said I was the anomaly, but... I never said I was the only one.”

A golden flower blossoms out of his eye socket, and as desperately as Sans wants to claw it out, his arms only jerk a little before failing to heed his will at all. The flower turns a hideous black-eyed grin at him, and it jeers, “Heeeeeere’s Flowey!!”

“What the--what are you--” he utters, entire body trembling. It all happened so fast, and when he calls to his abilities, they don’t work, they don’t obey. Despite all the power he has, he’s completely helpless.

And he has the horrible sinking feeling that that’s exactly what the anomalies are after. And if they know who he is and what he’s capable of and targeted him specifically...

“We’ve had this conversation a lot of times before, and I know you don’t remember it, but I’m kind of tired of repeating myself,” they say as Sans feels himself tumbling down to his knees. “So the short version is: I kept asking you to play a special game with me, and you kept saying ‘no.’ That hurt my feelings, you know.”

The inhuman and the flower laugh together, but Sans fails to see the humor. He grimaces and glares up at the child, extremities shaking like the Core’s steam vents.

“So my friend here and I decided that if _that_ you won’t play along, we’ll just gang up on _this_ you,” they continue cheerily. “You really should’ve said ‘yes’ when I first asked. Who knows? Maybe you would’ve liked it. But even if not, well--take it from me, Sans: everything gets much easier when you stop fighting and go with the flow.

“And now...” They lean forward and bump their forehead on Sans’s. His is clammy with sweat, and his breath rasps with fear; he can only see out of his right socket, but the kid’s red eyes still bore into his. In desperation, Sans calls again to the power that would let him shove the kid in five different directions in as many seconds... but nothing comes.

In a perfect harmony of mirth and malice and misery, Chara whispers, “ _We’re gonna have a great time_.”


End file.
